


Park benches

by J0ford



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Dean falls in love, F/M, Fluff, Modified supernatural universe, Original Character - Freeform, Sam Loves it, Slow Burn, Smut, Suicide Attempt (past), Tough guy is actually a total softie, flirty blush dean, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 08:36:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12317508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J0ford/pseuds/J0ford
Summary: Lena hasn't had a home since she was fourteen. No angels watching over her, she's been alone all that time, saving people, hunting things, no family around to help her. Until Dean and Sam Winchester save her from a particularly nasty demon.Between torturing Dean with flirting and helping sam with research, she finally feels like she might belong in this crazy hunter world.But things don't work out well for Lena very often, why should this time be any different?





	1. Chapter 1

The demon had me by the throat, black eyes narrowing to slits as its grip on my airway made mine bulge. 

"Bet you wish a real man would grab you like this sweet heart" the middle aged mechanic's voice leered at me, as a tongue broke the cage of his lips and trailed down my blood tracked cheek. I squirmed despite the hold on me growing supernaturally tighter, feebly kicking a foot out. 

"What I do on the - weekends-" I panted, growing faint as I was forced up the wall, "is nothing to do - with you - darlin-" 

My voice was choked off, nails digging into the back of my neck and a chill running down my spine. 

"Itll be nobody's business soon." He grinned maniacally, and I cursed myself for not packing another knife. White spots and stars danced across my vision as I gasped a few stolen breaths, still clawing against the fingers. 

He opened his mouth to speak once more, his greyed teeth suddenly highlighted by electric oranges before fizzling out as we both collapsed to the floor. 

Dizziness filled me as air rushed back to my brain, white spots finally clearing, like clouds, to reveal a pair of like green eyes set in a grim and stubbled face. 

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, rubbing my eyes before searching for my knife, intentionally avoiding the guys gaze. 

I leapt up, snatching the blade off of the floor and wiping the dregs of blood on the thigh of my torn, beat up jeans. 

"Hey a thank you would be nice!" Green eyes exclaimed, obviously confused and mildly pissed. 

I whipped my head around, barely allowing time to take in the faded leather jacket, combat boots and flannel on the blond guy and his silent, long haired partner. "What do you want? A thank you card?" I snapped, continuing before either could reply. "Because maybe we should get to the chit chat after we kill the other five that are currently in spitting distance of here."

Both men stiffened, clutching knives. Green eyes clicked his neck in a "sure whatever" kind of attitude while the taller one spun, slicing into a demon as soon as he ran in the room. 

I couldn't allow myself a moment to be impressed before I was ending another demon of my own. It didn't take long to dismember them, demons aren't particularly known to be the greatest of fighters despite one getting the upper hand on me just now. We took them apart easily which was considerably easier based on the fact I wasn't totally alone this time. 

As I put the demon down I brought myself to meet eyes with the smaller of the men again. He opened his mouth to speak but I had to drop another black eyed woman racing up behind him, a smirk cracking at my face. 

"Thanks for saving my bacon doll but," I said, gesturing with my serrated knife to a now dead waitress, "I think we're even now."

"Not quite princess," he said, me rolling my eyes deeply in reply. The taller guy tutted at the other, before stepping forward, hand extended. 

"I'm Sam. Winchester. And this is my brother Dean." I eyed his hand before grudgingly taking it. You had to live under a rock to not have heard of the Winchesters; they were notorious in the hunter community - you don't easy forget the angelic vessels and averters of one of the many apocalypses - but they didn't have to know that I knew that. 

"Lena." 

When Sam saw he wasn't getting anymore out of me he started probing me with questions, a sceptical Dean folding leather clad arms over his wide chest. 

"So what were you doing here facing near seven demons without back up?" 

"Seems kinda stupid don't it?" Dean piped up. 

I shrugged refusing to let him under my skin, playing it off. "Not my fault they all died." Or was it? 

Dean scoffed taking a step towards me, " and you thought you could take them all out in your own?"

"Saved you from one didn't I?" Dean raised an eyebrow, eyes burning with something as some kind of truce from the sniping was established. 

Sam coughed awkwardly, trying to break the tension. "How about we go get a coffee or something, talk about all this?" 

I kept my eyes glued to Dean. With a smile I said sweetly "You buying sugar?"

*

I sipped my hot chocolate frowning at the boys cheap black coffees. 

"I don't know how you drink that shit," I said, licking a dollop of cocoa sprinkled whipped cream off of my finger. 

"Well back atcha princess," Dean said eye brow raised, slight amused smile. "Given how feisty you are I thought you were a little stronger than cocoa."

I smiled back at him, "I'm living my childhood now, as mine ended when my momma drained by a vamp. Your excuse?"

"I'm just trying to stay awake, actually killing demons does tend to take it out of ya," Dean grinned, joking in his snipes this time. 

"Plenty of energy in marshmallows babe," I replied, sticking my tongue out, "or weren't you aware?"

It was Sam's turn to roll his dark eyes now, rubbing his chin as he questioned. "Where you from Lena, haven't seen you kicking about before." 

I plucked a marshmallow from my luke warm drink, "Atlanta, originally, been hopping about since then really." 

Not missing a beat, Dean interjected "How old were you?" 

"Ahhhhh fourteen? Thirteen? I lose track."

Sam let out a long whistle, nursing his foul black liquid, "that's gotta be rough."

I shrugged again, deflecting, not wanting to delve into that sob story, fingers tracing the tell tale scar on my wrist under the table. "Can't have been easy in casa Winchester if we're in the same line if work." 

"Our mother died when we were young," Sam started. 

"Demon. Yellow eyes," Dean stated matter of factly, looking boredly into his cup. 

"Then dad got into some trouble, and kicked it too."

"Sold his soul to save me, average shit you know?"

"At least you knew your daddy," I said with a wink, trying to lighten the mood as I drained my drink. 

"This some sorta competition?" Dean replied, a ghost of a smile playing on his dampened lips. 

"It's kinda my greatest quality."

Both men laughed, which was a sight, Dean's half smirk bringing a little heat to my cheeks, Sam's chuckle lightening the seriousness of his face, which usually looked like it was crafted out of clay. 

"Look, where are you staying we'll give you a ride," Sam offered, a soft expression in his eyes. 

I laughed awkwardly, not wanting to impose. "Awe, you're alright boys. I've got an infestation to clear still."

"We'll help, Lena," Dean said quickly fixing me with a hot look. 

"That's mighy nice of ya guys but unless you're gonna drive me to that park bench down the road in front of Starbucks, I'm good." 

Sam deadpanned, eyes filled with disbelief as he raked his over grown hair back, "You're sleeping rough?"

My cheeks grew hot as I grew defensive. "I prefer 'saving money' or 'keeping in touch with nature' Sam." 

Dean stared at me, brow furrowed, "No way are you sleeping on a bench again. It's freaking November."

"Denims cosier than it looks," i bit back.

He sat back in frustration, arms folding over his chest again. "Look princess,"

"Lena," I complained immediately, Sam sighing but wisely staying out of it. 

"Princess, we can go round in circles all day,"

"I bet you'd love that," I said with a wink. I couldn't help it, seeing how he choked on his breath at the mediocre flirting had me giggling on the inside - and me out of their hair. The Winchesters are bad news for a girl like me - families don't stay together long with me hanging about. 

"And you can keep this up all you like,"

"All night long baby," I grinned, rising a pink tinge to his cheeks but he skipped on regardless. 

"But we, as your average Good Samaritans, are not gonna let you sleep on a park bench tonight."

I sighed, all out of retorts and fresh out of ideas. 

"I'm not winning this one am I."

"Nope." The winchesters stated simply, in unison. 

Holding my dirty hands with chipped nails up in surrender, I exclaimed, "fine!" Noting how Dean seemed to gloat with just his expression. 

Son of a bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

I immediately called shot gun. 

"Seriously Lena?!" Sam moaned, obviously not expecting me to jump in there so quickly. I already had myself half in the seat so I just looked st him as though he was crazy.   
"Dean?" He tried hopefully, but the man just shrugged. 

"However calls it gets it."

Sam look irritated and I couldn't help but let a huge grin plaster my face - it was funny to see the huge man throw a tantrum. "But-"

"Back seat shuts his cake hole Sammy."

All the while hearing dissatisfied grumbles from the back seat, so much for Dean's rule, I took in the interior of the impala. The black leather seat covers were worn and soft like how you'd imagine the hands of a well cared for grandma. A small toy tank was wedged into the collapsible ash tray, obviously not going anywhere soon, and a few scratches lined the dashboard like glitter litters a party table. The iPod classic in its dock was out of place in looks but not in practice as AC/DC quietly played through the modified speakers. 

"She's a pretty old girl ain't she?" I complimented, to which, predictably, Dean's eyes lit up. 

"Who baby? We look after her don't we Sammy?"

Sam snorted. "How many times have we had to replace her frame work and body?"

"Every time it's done it's done with love," Dean stated matter-of factly, patting the outer door through the window with loving eyes, "Ain't that right baby?"

I laughed, but grew nostalgic. I never had a thing I loved as much as Dean loves this car you know? Everything was temporary for me, but by the looks of the Inside of this impala, they've had this car all their lives. Hell I've only had this jacket since Tuesday. 

I was thrown out my thoughts by Sam. 

"You alright there Lena? You look a little out of it." 

I was jarred at first, not at all used to people taking notice of me. I quickly plastered on a bright smile, not keen to linger and turned round with a wink.

"Just peachy sunshine."

*

The house we made our way into was old and rickety, lined with books and talismans, warded in every way shape and form. There were old arm chairs in the living area, a healthy amount of twist cap beer bottles, presumably left from the night before, on the coffee table and a thin layer of dust on everything that wasn't tracked through or heaved about at least every day. 

It turned out that this used to be the house of Bobby Singer. 

"Real shame," I mournfully stated, " met on a case in Oregon. Couple of ghouls raising a real stink. Took no shit that guy, the kinda stuff I respected."

"He was a teddy bear really," stated Dean, a rare flash of vulnerability lightening his face. It made him look younger, accessible, but the bad ass exterior was up again in seconds. "Beer?"

"You read my mind." 

While Dean traipsed to the fridge for drinks, Sam was poured over a book. 

"Watcha reading Sammy?" I asked leaning along the back of his leather desk chair, as worn and beat up as the rest of his house. 

He didn't even look up, broad fingers lightly tracing the parchment of the old book. "These demons aren't normal, they're bound."

I wrinkled my nose in disgust, "witches?"

"No, this screams human, but they ain't selling their souls."

"So summoning for revenge maybe?"  
I suggested, answers an theories whirring around in my brain. 

"Potentially, but that would mean the vics are all connected somehow." 

I pondered, pulling my moms old battered reading glasses from my pocket. 

"Hand it over Sammy let me get a look at that lore." The taller Winchester relented his pages to me, unsure of where I'd run with this. 

"It says here that demons can only be bound to service by a ritual correct? Which implies we have a believer on our hands, this person couldn't have just been clowning -do we have and cults, die hard book clubs, anything of the sort?"

Sam looked thoughtful, immediately looking over the pics of the victims and suspects. "Now you mention it, Ron, Dave and Mike were a little defensive when it came to their football night alibis. Plus, they seemed super interested in Dean's talisman that he wears around his neck." My eyes flick to Dean, shoulder rippling under his flannel as he reached for the top shelf, which I noticed before I snapped my gaze quickly back to the very interesting, very wholesome lore in front of me, all the while Sam tittered on. "Plus there's been some chaos surrounding the new councilman election, and all of the vics have pretty strong opinions on that front." 

I handed the heavy ass book back to him with a groan, " I think we have our link." 

"Did someone say drink?" Dean joked thrusting a bottle in my face which I gladly took. This day was getting stranger and stranger, and the alcohol was a needed distraction. 

"No, Dean but I think we just found our killer," same said grimly, holding up a crumpled photo of a chubby and stout man in his early fifties. 

"Mike? That guy? He's got it in him?" Dean raged in disbelief, taking a deep swig of his beer as a remedy. 

"It's always the quiet ones," I said under my breath, images of my mom's old best friend, Karen, running through my head with her sickening smile and curls that reeked of chemicals. I shuddered, Sam and Dean sharing a knowing look across me as I stared at an unassuming wall opposite me. 

Same cleared his throat. "Well I'm gonna go check out Mike's last competitor for councilman, do some secret warding that kinda stuff. You order food, I'll be back in an hour?"

"Sure thing Sammy, be careful." A look passed between the pair and I felt a familiar ache in my chest. It's the look my mom used to give me when I left the house alone to go to school, the look when I went to a party late or asked if I could go meet someone. It was concern and love in these eyes and it gave me a huge lump in my bruised throat that even chugging the rest of my beer couldn't shift it.


	3. Chapter 3

With Sam gone, Dean took it upon himself to get me wasted.  
"Come on!" He said, "you nearly died today, take the shot, live a little, you're a hunter don't wuss out on me." I took a long deep swig from his hip flask, whisky burning my already sore throat. 

"Trust me Dean Winchester, I need no encouragement from you to fill my boots." I absent mindedly traced the purplish finger marks on the crease of my neck, the soft paleness stained with the burst under webbing of my veins. 

"Hey," Dean suddenly said, so soft it disoriented me, sitting up and leaning towards me with outstretched hands. His jade eyes met my dark ones, the gaze physically painful for me to keep up yet I couldn't look away. "Let me take a look at that."

Liquor lowering all inhibitions, I flung my head back to grant him access to the vulnerable area. His fingers were warm, ghosting over mauve finger prints as if the skin would disintegrate beneath him, the kind of care that was given to fine, priceless objects not a scrappy and wild girl like me. 

I watch him still as he wet his lips, eyes glued on my throat, my jaw, chest anywhere but my eyes as he realised just how close we really were, continuing until I found my own fingers ghosting his jaw line to bring those piercing eyes painfully back to mine. My thumb traced his bottom lip as his breathing slowed to none, eyes but an ember with something I couldn't quite decipher, let alone deal with. 

We let it go on a beat too long before I had the sense to whisper, "I won't feel it after another drink." 

And just like that, whatever the hell that was burned up and disappeared, just like I'd burnt it's bones. 

*

I do not get attached. It's the rule, so be it a cliché and a barrier to the rest of the world but it did its damn purpose alright? 

Don't get attached don't get hurt. 

Kill things to fill the day, save someone else's family to get a kick. Go on your merry way when their beautifully average lives go back to the way they were. 

That would never happen for me. 

It's because of this that I knew it was wise, sitting in the arm chair farthest away from Dean, chopsticks in hand with my boots still laced, ready to run. 

As much as I like Dean and Sam, three people in the life couldn't last that long together. Simple probability, not that I ever completed grade school math. 

So I was getting out, sooner the better. 

The big bad Winchesters could get back to slaying god or the devil or whatever big fish they intended to fry this week, while I could go back to park benches and the things that simply go bump in the night. 

And things would be better. 

For them anyway. 

*

I was given a room but I barely graced the covers with my ass before I was up again, duffel slung around my shoulders and ready to flee. 

I'd already written a note, my crappy scrawl of what was meant to be handwriting etching out

Thanks for the hospitality boys - Lena 

I tied my blond hair into a pony tail that meant business and buttoned up my black denim jacket against would undoubtedly be very wintery air. 

But I hadn't made it one step towards the door before there was a knock. 

"Who is it?" I cooed, whipping off my jacket and ditching the duffel before having to guiltily open the dented bedroom door. 

"Hey Lena it's me." I could tell it was Dean but I couldn't help but joke out of nervousness. 

"Santa? But it's not Christmas for another month!"

"Shut up can I just come in?!" He chuckled but there was a serious lilt to his request. 

"Sure, mr Claus, make yourself at home."

He was shirtless. Obviously. Ready for bed, nice and comfortable and woah nelly fucking distracting. I had to fight to keep my eyes anywhere but his toned and tanned chest because I know full well how to appreciate a good thing and I'd appreciate him with my tongue on his - 

"I just wanna say it's nice having you around."

I spluttered out of my reverie, sex still on the brain and all this fluffy stuff totally unexpected. 

"I mean, you helped us on this case," he stuttered, struggling to legitimise himself, "I've finally got someone who can drink me under the table and you really keep me on my toes." He grasped the back of his neck awkwardly. 

"Well you make it all so easy Pretty boy," I breathed out, accidentally mind, as he piqued his eyes to mine in interest. He took a step too close to me, measuring up with that tell tale smirk on those dangerous lips again. 

"So you think I'm pretty, Lena?" I swallowed loudly struggling to retain dominance. 

"Could do with a shave but sure."  
His eyes drifted to my bitten sore lips and back to my eyes before replying. 

"Good to know princess."

I don't know what it was but after dean left me in that state I didn't grab my bag. I shimmied out of my jeans and crawled under the chilly covers. 

I laid there, staring into the darkness for what felt like hours. 

Maybe this time?


	4. Chapter 4

That's the thing about the hunter life; everything's hard and fast or not at all.   
You didn't know when you were going to die so every second counted: take it or run. 

It didn't help that the Winchesters were addictive to a girl like me,a constant feeling of family wrapped up in two brothers who wanted you around. 

They were my own personal brand of heroin, the promise of an escape to a place I couldn't fathom. Don't get me wrong,their life wasn't easy but as least it wasn't lonely. 

The most human contact I got was skin deep; questions on a case, the guy at the gas station, a greasy one night stand. 

I wasn't the kind of girl who experienced tenderness or playfulness or concern. But they were things I craved so intensely that I couldn't stop. 

I couldn't make myself leave, not just yet. 

But at least I had an excuse, we still had this case. 

But I'd enjoy every stolen second of contentment, the closest I've been to genuine happiness since I started placating myself with the high of the kill. My only drug for years. But now I had a choice. 

*

Barely a day had passed before something went awry. I was sitting at the kitchen table, smelling rancid coffee while I sipped a fruit tea with reading glasses slipping down my nose when three people appeared, jogging the wooden bench and getting a mixed berry concoction of splatters on sams ancient book of Greek mythology I'd borrowed for a bit of light reading. 

It was out of my mouth before I could control it. "Who the fuck are you supposed to be?" 

The girl, a short and dark haired beauty clad in leather and lace sauntered up to me, leaning down to look me in the eyes. "Calm it sweet cheeks, we're looking for Dean." I prickled in my seat before she continued with a knowing and sadistic smile. "And little Sammy of course."

"My apologies," the shorter of the men interjected, "my demon friend knows near nothing of social etiquette. My name is Castiel and I am and Angel of the lord - though he's been pretty absent as of late."

I bristled further, clutching my tear so hard I thought the mug would shatter. "You've got to be fucking kidding me?!" I my voice was growing louder and more hysterical by the second. "A demon and an angel working together and looking for the Winchesters?" My eyes flicked to the third man, a young Asian guy who looked worse for wear. "And what are you supposed to be? The cat in the freaking hat?"

I caught a brief glare before he explained himself. "I'm a prophet, actually." 

"A prophet." I scoffed with a dark laugh. "Wow. Word if god and everything? Water into wine? Fan-freaking-tastic!"

He could barely bite out a "no I cannot turn water into wine" before Dean made his entrance, still in his attire (or lack thereof) from last night, hair sticking up in all directions and a friendly smile. "Cas? Hey buddy!" 

I stared in disbelief as he hugged the angel and greeted the demon as Meg and the prophet as Kevin. Even their names were surreal- no lucifer or Jesus up in here. 

My brain started to hurt as Castiel and meg launched into a tale over Kevin's interpretations of some sorta tablet. He obviously wasn't doing well as he presented two thirds of what must be a whole inscription. 

"It's good to have you around guys!"

I winced at the near mirroring if the words he spoke to me the night before. How could I have been so stupid? The Winchesters were just nice guys - to anyone and anything. Nothing meant real shit to them except each other. Now I just felt like an idiot for thinking, hoping, praying that there might be a chance I could stay. 

I turned my heel and immediately went upstairs, Meg's faint "what's eating her panties" filtering through to me, not that I cared what that demon had to say. I was doing what I should've done twelve hours ago and getting back on track. No more domestics. 

Five minutes later Dean was in my trail, Sammy having taken his place with the misfit toys downstairs. 

"Lena, what's wrong?" His voice full of concern that made me feel ill; I knew it was a just for now kind of thing that he'd lose interest. That's what I get for not trusting my instincts. 

"Do collect broken things Dean Winchester?"

He looked flabbergasted. But I continued. "Your batshit angel, a defected demon, and a prophet who can barely read a tablet? Is this some sort of game to you? Get a catalogue of people that are fucked up in some way to what? Be your fucked up side kicks? What am I just some sorta stray to take in for Christmas? No dean. Fuck. This. I'm not some charity case."

I manoeuvred to storm out,hot and angry but Dean placed his hands on my arms, stilling me but igniting a fire that would eat me up from the inside.   
His green eyes were full of disbelief and plain confusion. 

"Look Lena, I don't know what the hells got into you." I tried to speak but he cut me off. 

"Just shit up for once in you life will ya? You are not so charity case nor do I 'collect' people. Them down there are my friends, Castiel is like a brother to me which I know may be difficult to understand but it's true. This life has never been a game to me and neither are you - and stray? Here I am thinking we were sorta friends." 

As he saw me calming down slightly he cracked a smile. Which had me staring at his lips which had him staring at mine and his hands ghosting down to find my hips. I couldn't be sure if I was pulled in or if I leapt in but in no time at all my arms were around his neck and our lips were together in some sort of hot and hard mess that tasted like stale coffee and pie, bitter sweet and addictive.   
I bit the bottom of his lip, eliciting a groan as he held me tighter, deepening the kiss as our tongues melded together. One hand found my hair tugging gently in a way that had me moaning, the other skirting the top of my ass. 

I broke away, seeing stars and breathing as if I'd just taken out a whole nest of vamps. 

"Stop stressing okay?" He whispered resting his forehead against mine. 

I couldn't help it as a smile cracked open my face. "I'm a crazy bitch aren't I?"

He laughed and squeezed me before leading me back downstairs. 

"We kinda all are."


	5. Chapter 5

"I can see from your complexion and the pheromones coming off of you that Dean must have had similar affects on you as the pizza man."

I was mortified, knowing that whatever that shit show out of the angel's mouth meant he knew that Dean and I just had a furious make out session and by the grins on sam, meg and Kevin's faces, they all knew too. 

"Cas, shut the fuck up."

"Noted."

"What's the pizza man got to do with any of this?" I asked tentatively to which meg grinned. 

"Sweet heart of it's anything like what I got off Cassie over here then it must be positively sinful."

As much as I hated it, I naturally felt compelled to like meg; we had a similar sense of humour and I couldn't help but rake my eyes across her body once or twice. But she was a demon, meaning I'd have to be careful, even more so than with the Winchesters. 

"Jesus," I muttered with a reluctant smile, to which Castiel replied. 

"What a great man. But this is only Kevin Tran, honour roll student."

I let out a long whistle, "well only Kevin what's a smarty pants like you doing in the life?" I tried to distract myself from the blush but I could feel Dean's laughing eyes in me as I tried to snipe and joke. 

Kevin rolled his eyes, unamused. "Oh you know divine selection had to come and ruin my perfectly good life over anyone else's."

"That's the average around here," I said, quirking an eyebrow at him. 

"You don't say," he replied, throwing the brothers one hell of a stink eye. 

I picked up my tea, now cold, but I swigged it anyway, whether it be out of nervousness or bravado. 

"Anyway," Kevin carried on, losing patience and growing antsy, "I finally managed a sentence."

"Don't over work yourself there, Tran," Dean said sarcastically while Sam got down to business. 

"What does it say?" Sam looked intently at the prophet. 

"Well it's only a loose translation but it's something like an instruction manual on how to shut the gates of hell."

I spat my drink out, coughing. The brother's eyes grew wide. 

"I'm gonna need something stronger than fruit tea if we're hell bound sunshine."

*

After the weirdest three musketeers in history left, but not before a marathon style grilling, I went upstairs to get ready. 

"I'm hitting a bar," I announced, as I slipped up the stairs. "Anyone care to join?" 

"Sure, I could use a bourbon." Replied Dean instantly, to which I raised an eyebrow knowingly. I was met with a breath stealing smirk.

I put in my black jean, the ones with the least blood spatters and a low cut black top that was washed at least a week ago in a truck stop bathroom. 

Needs come to must you know? 

I sprayed a spritz of stolen and nameless perfume, chanced at a little eyeliner and took my hair down from its messy bun. 

I looked at myself in the misty mirror, deciding that what I'd put together would have to do. 

"Let's ride boys!" I yelled, opening the front door. 

The green eyed Winchester materialised right behind me, his warmth radiating into my back, putting me on edge. 

"It seems like it's just us tonight princess."

I couldn't help the gulp that left me, "More drink for me then. Yay." 

"Yay indeed."

I skirted away from the man behind me, a brief look behind showing the older Winchester to be dressed casually in his own jeans, boots, a tight black T-shirt and a khaki button down - undone. 

I swing my hips in front of Dean, deciding to tease in order distract from the fact that his flirting was totally getting under my skin. 

I heard a groan emanate from the man and I hide a wide grin into the impala door. 

This could be interesting. 

*

I don't know what it was about the older Winchester but man did he love his drink. I mean so did I, but his experience beat out even me. 

"What do you mean you haven't had a flaming shot?"

I shrugged not committedly, "why waste the alcohol by burning it away?"

I gained a short laugh, "I see your point princess. Just normal shots then?" 

I smiled with a wink, "only if your buying doll." 

He rolled his eyes at me, but none the less pulled our empties back into the bar. 

The conversation had been basic up until now; the hunter special. 

Who died, who dunit? Tragic past abbreviated please? Beer or not to beer? 

But not we were edging somewhere outside the realms of small talk. 

"So you have no contacts in you phone like at all?" Dean asked, a dumbfounded yet not unkind smile on his face. 

"Only use it for 911, the torch function and candy crush on long bus rides."

"So no friends, no family, no enemies?"

I smiled trying to diffuse my own awkwardness. "You keep your enemies in your contacts?"

He shrugged, "keep em close right?"

I laughed. "No not right. No wonder you and Sammy end up in the shit you do."

Dean scoffed non commitedly, swigging his beer and changing the conversation with intent eyes. 

"So when are you buying me a drink then?" He said, putting the glasses down with a succession of clinks. 

I blanched, scrambling to find something pg-13 to reply with. 

"Hmmm, how about when you bring me that girl's number?" I said, gesturing to a girl with fantastic hips and legs who was giving Dean the eye. It made me prickle in my seat but I had no reason at all to get territorial. Dean was a guy I'd met two days ago, kissed and screamed at - and probably would leave within the next week. 

He grinned, eyebrows raised satirically. "Easy princess you sure you wanna see me after some other girl?"

Truth was I wasn't, but in order to keep this strictly a flirtation, I had to be. We shouldn't have kissed the first time, so now I need him macking on something else. 

"If you're not man enough I'm sure I can get it."

Dean bit onto the challenge against his manliness, approaching the girl with his signature smile and glowing confidence. 

My face fell as he grew closer to her, so I downed both my shots and his. I was so wrapped up in my liquor that a I barely noticed a man walking towards me, gesturing to the bar man for another round as he sat down next to me. 

"So what's a pretty lady like you drinking all alone, huh?" He was wearing a suit, unusual for the rough kind of establishment we were in but not totally unwelcome. He had an infectious smile framed with tidy facial hair and a thick English accent that immediately had me interested. 

"Can't a girl enjoy her own company?"

He quirked a smile at me, pushing a dark drink towards me which I took gratefully. "A girl as enticing as you certainly can, but I'd consider it a perfect sin."

I rolled my eyes at the blatant flattery, forcing the sharp liquid down my throat as he looked on. 

"My name is Crowley, pleased to make your acquaintance." He help his hand out for me to shake, which I found odd, but took anyway. He twisted the shake into a delicate kiss on my palm, eyes never leaving mine. 

My mouth went dry, simply confused about the direction this conversation had taken. 

"Ugh, Lena. Name's Lena."

"Lena. What a beautiful name for an equally exquisite woman."

"You're quite the charmer aren't you," I said, finding my own replies to be quite lacking in the face of this man. 

"I've been called far worse my dear."

Something about him doesn't lead me to doubt this very much at all; maybe it was the glint in his eye or the sin in his smile but this man was trouble. 

I must've been right as a fist slammed its way onto our table, slipping my drink over my fingers and stealing the air from my lungs. Dean stood in front of us, expression impenetrable. 

"Get out of here Crowley before I get you acquainted with this holy water in my pocket."

Crowley let out a short and amused bark of laughter, arms spread wide in what should have been a friendly gesture. I could feel my brow furrow; god I had not had enough drink for anymore if this bullshit. "And here I was thinking you were just pleased to see me!"  
Dean remained motionless. 

"Now, now squirrel, no need to bite, I was only checking out your new play thing," he said, a gross wink thrown in my direction. 

"Yeah well rein check, we're out of here."

I started to protest, ask questions, generally just gain a response out of him as he grabbed my arm and pulled me to the door; it was all I could do to drain my drink and place it on the bar as I was dragged by. 

"What the fuck Dean! Who even was that?" I exclaimed as we settled next to the dark exterior of the bar, walls a hollow orange in the glow of the street light. 

Dean looked pissed, tensing and shaking with a slight tremor under his skin. My stomach dropped but I kept my bravado. What the hell was even happening? 

"You were just getting cosy with the damn king of hell Lena!" 

I had to admit, that was not what I was expecting to come out of his mouth. 

I stared at him blankly. 

"Well how in gods name was I supposed to know that!?" 

I was exasperated at this point, tired, frustrated. I couldn't have a single drink without running into a demonic bastard or some sorts now. People are complicated, the Winchesters were complicated, Dean was fucking complicated and I didn't know if I could cope. 

"Jesus Lena, you're just a magnet for trouble!"

"You think I don't know that!" I hissed, getting up in his space now as I seethed. 

"You insisted I come back with you while we finished this case. I didn't ask you to get involved in my crappy existence. Stop your bitching, it was your own damn choice!"

Dean was raging right in back at me, anger pooling off of him in spades.   
"Of course I chose to I wanted to! I still do!"

"Fine!"

"Okay then!"

We were both left heavy breathing, the seconds feeling like days before we collided.


	6. Chapter 6

*smut warning*

 

He was heavy, slamming into me. His hands ended up either side of me, enclosing me between him and the cold wall behind me. 

I was euphoric, my hands finding his back with steal grip fingers and roaming nails. 

He was hungry, lips attacking mine which I returned with equal fervour. 

His tongue ran across my lips before he nipped lightly at them, making me groan into his mouth. He took this a opportunity to kiss me deeper, hands finding their way to my neck, the small of my back, the curve of my ass all in an effort just to get as close as possible. 

He pulled one thigh up to straddle his hip as he stood between my legs; I ground myself into him, earning myself a a shocked gasp or pleasure. 

To my surprise he hoisted me up, wrapping my legs around his waist as he moved his lips to my neck, sucking on a sweet spot that had me moaning and running my fingers through his hair. 

I struggled to force the word out but I'm classier than getting fucked against the back wall of a bar. 

"Im-impala- Dean!"

Still supporting my weight he whisked me towards the car and practically threw me into the back seat. The smell of leather mixed with whisky and menthol cigarettes was intoxicating, the musky smell of his skin had my head spinning as he was everywhere, all over me, anchoring me down. 

His nimble fingers pulled open the buttons of my jeans with ease, well practiced. His lips made their way down my chest, the ache between my legs growing hot and uncomfortable. 

When he touched me it still wasn't enough, I craved friction and I needed him. 

"God dammit Winchester of you don't get your dick out right now I'm going to punch you."

I gained a laugh and a sharp hot tug at the mess of my hair, which had me wetter than I though was possible. 

He pulled down his zipper agonisingly slow, teasing me with every millimetre. 

I practically growled forcing his hands down and the waist of his jeans with them. 

I swear I saw his eyes go a little wide in surprise, paired with as happy smirk as I lined him up with me. 

I rolled my hips, growing needy and he finally gave in, thrusting into me so deep I saw stars. 

He picked up the pace, our sex fast and hot and needy. There was nothing delicate or romantic about it but I managed to still feel close to him - because this sex was just like the way we lived. All at once, rushed and intense. 

And I'd be a liar if I said I didn't come the hardest I ever had, ass stuck to leather in the back of that damn impala. 

*

I could barely catch my breath - Dean rested his weight upon me but it was a comforting presence. My chest heaved as did his, but I didn't want to leave this. I didn't want to take my arms from around his neck, I didn't want his skin separate from mine. 

I knew I'd regret this but for now I felt warm and safe, for the first time I can remember. 

Dean trailed a stray piece of hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. I could see the ghost of his smile in the dark as he placed a lazy kiss on the corner of my mouth. 

Despite the dread I knew would come, I couldn't help but smile back. 

*

I woke up on the couch, sitting up, fully clothed and my head resting on Dean's chest. 

Some how we must have got back to the house from the parking lot, yet I cringed to think that one of us had driven and can only hope that we'd called someone to get us. 

I ached from last nights - um, activities. I didn't feel anything. I couldn't feel happy or sick or anything about last night. 

I didn't know if I could feel without breaking down. 

Against my better judgment,I let myself fall deeper into Dean's embrace. 

What the fuck have I got myself into?


End file.
